


I Am Too Ace For This

by RubberandGlue



Series: The Plot Bunnies Are Winning [1]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: Multiple Crossovers, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25917760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberandGlue/pseuds/RubberandGlue
Summary: I only meant to write one story and suddenly the plot bunnies invaded.Here you will find ficlets that may or may not become full length stories.Stories here will be set in the Anita Verse.Possible Future IdeasFemale Harry Potter - soulmate AULuna Lovegood - I just want her everywhereMarinette DuPain-Cheng - cause why notDon’t Look Under The Bed - imaginary friends and I have 0 ideas on how that would workClaire Bennet - she can heal okayElla EnchantedBunniculaClockwise series - time travelMatildaJubilee LeeHarriet the SpyCafe AUReincarnation AUDidn’t Know They Were Dating AUWingfic AU
Series: The Plot Bunnies Are Winning [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880935
Comments: 6
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a random scene from a vague Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover idea. One where Dawn never existed because I hated every one of those plot lines and instead Joyce tried to save her marriage by having another child that she name Babette. Mostly because that is another nickname for Elizabeth and I felt like it had the same general feel as the name Buffy. Somehow the two storylines get crossed and Babette ends up in St. Louis. I kind of suck at coming up with believable reason for how to cross two fandoms.

It wasthe middle of the day, Babette had gotten home ages ago, and she couldn’t sleep. She had given up after less than an hour of trying. She was still in her [nightgown](https://di2ponv0v5otw.cloudfront.net/posts/2018/12/14/5c1464692e1478292996b22b/m_5c146477a31c33923cfcb8b5.jpg). There was something in the air that she just didn’t like. If she didn’t know any better she would say that something big was coming. But that was ridiculous. She wasn’t psychic. She was sleep deprived, that was all.

And yet she was awake.

Babette was relaxing in her favorite comfy chair, hand sewing while she waited for the cookies to finish in the oven. She had already cleaned her house and now she was doing busy work. Hand sewing calmed her mind and also allowed her more control when she imbued her clothing with her special brand of metaphysical magic.

She barely avoided stabbing the sharp needle into her hand as a pounding began at her front door.

“Shit,” she whispered quietly as she set down her work and went to see who would possibly want to see her at such an ungodly time, especially since her work schedule required her to be nocturnal. Most of the people she knew kept the same schedule as her.

The pounding started again. Safely hidden Babette paused anddidn’t even try to hide the moue of annoyance. Seriously could they not wait one second. At least they hadn’t rung...

A rumble of thunder broke through the silence followed closely by a strike of lightning. Never mind, they had just rungthe doorbell.

“Open the door, it’s Anita.” Ahhhhh, that explained the impatience.

Pausing at the front door Babette shook her head and easily let her annoyance go before opening the door to greet Anita and whoever else it was that she could feel through the door.

“Good afternoon, Anita,” Babette greeted once the door was open. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah.” Anita didn’t elaborate.

Babette turned to the other guestwhen it became clear that Anita wasn’t planning on telling her anything else. The guest was not that much taller than Anita with long dark auburn hair and a slim but muscular build. She couldn’t see much of his face because it was tilted to the floor and his hair spilled over his shoulders leaving only the bump of his nose and parts of his forehead showing.

Turning my attention to the only other person on the porch seemed to be the signal that she had been waiting for. “This is Nathaniel. He is a submissive wereleopard. He can’t live alone, and he is your problem now.” With that she turned around and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What would possibly happen next very heavily relies on my idea of the very small amount that I know about S&M and my own headcannon about Nathaniel. In my head he may like pain and he sees himself as the ultimate submissive but he knows how to manipulate situations to benefit himself. He was a street kid and he will do what he has to in order to stay safe and happy.


	2. Anita? Never heard of her.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made a mistake and tried to reread the Anita Blake series. And then I read a fanfic that had Anita being very true to the later books and I remembered how much I dislike the character. So I decided to see what a different fictional necromancer would do in the Anita verse where there was no Anita.
> 
> I am not sure how graphic this would be considered but someone does die in this chapter so if you don't want to read about it I would give this chapter a pass.

“Are you ready to order, Miss,” the waiter, Josh asked diplomatically as he barely contained the urge to glance at the empty seat across from me. I had just graduated from college and would be starting work as an editor in a local publishing firm. I had scheduled this dinner with my father’s assistant six months ago. At thirty minutes after the scheduled reservation time I felt safe in assuming that he would probably not show. I was just as positive that if I checked my bank balance that it would be up by $1,000. The standard rate when my father decided that I wouldn’t care if he skipped out on me for his more important business.

“Yes, I am ready to order.” I could see the pity in Josh’s eyes as he raised his order pad. We had done this song and dance together a few times before. We both ignored the slight rise in volume behind us.

“Of course.”

“Can I get the...” The loud sound of skin connecting to skin caused everyone within hearing distance to stop mid sentence and turn toward the offender. 

A sinister looking man with dark curly hair sat across from a blonde woman. He currently had a dark curl falling down in front of his eyes, that were a liquid grey. Many quickly looked away while just as many seemed to be riveted on the drama unfolding.

I was unpleasantly reminded of a school camping trip when I was eleven. It was before I had found out that I was a necromancer. Back when I and everyone else had assumed that I was just schizophrenic. I had seen what I now knew was just an echo of the past. A young girl who at the time looked to be about fifteen had been dragged into the bushes by our campsite, beaten, and then killed.

I don’t know what woke me that night. At first, I had assumed that the man was taking his dog out to go to the bathroom. He had been holding a leash and this was a public campground, after all. I had been sympathetic to the man because it was very late even if the temperature had been nice enough for us to forgo the tents and sleep under the stars. That sympathy had quickly vanished when he had kicked the assumed animal. My blood had turned to ice when the girl was finally revealed. I wanted to run out and help but I couldn’t even breathe. He had kicked and yelled at her as well but there had been no sound. It hadn’t seemed so strange at the time. He had seemed to wind down when his arm shot forward and a long knife appeared from under his jacket as he had slit the girl’s throat. The girl had fallen out of sight onto the ground and the man had walked off with one final kick. And when I didn’t think that it could get worse it had started all over again. And again. I had sat half in my sleeping bag under the stars surrounded by my friends, terrified. Watching the girl die on repeat. I didn’t get any more sleep that night.

I couldn’t just leave her to that. I may not have known her but I couldn’t do nothing.

My chair squeaked as I prepared to stand, surprising both Josh and me. We were the only ones to notice it as it wasn’t nearly as loud as the yelling coming from so close by. I could see the other employees speaking in hushed voices, mostly likely in order to get the manager to kick out the couple because of the commotion that was disrupting everyone else’s night. No one seemed to want to break up the fight for themselves.

I walked to their table and turned my back on the man, giving my full attention to the woman. With her sitting I was able to meet her eyes without having to look down too much as we were almost the same height.

“Hello. My name is Chloe Saunders. Would you like to eat dinner with me? My table is just right there.” I pointed behind us as she stared at me in disbelief.

I knew that I wasn’t much to look at. I was twenty-two years old, an inch short of five feet, and I looked fifteen at most. It was frustrating because people often assumed that I was using a fake ID or that I was skipping school. And lying. So much lying. The mystery woman still looked scared as she glanced at the man that I had snubbed earlier. I am not sure what she saw when she looked at him because I lacked the courage to turn around, but she lifted her hand to shake mine.

“My name is Cherry. It is nice to meet you.” Cherry’s voice was deeper than I had anticipated. It reminded me of femme fatales in classic noir films.

She stood up and I immediately felt shorter. I pushed down that feeling and wove my arm with hers as we walked back to my table. I may not know her. She may go back to that man when this dinner ended but I just really wanted to try to give her an out. Maybe I could help her. Maybe I couldn’t. But I would try.

I pulled out her chair for her to sit before returning to my own chair.

“Do you need more time to choose what you want to eat?” I asked Cherry.

She nodded her head and I felt her foot slide up my calf as she turned her attention to the menu.

Dinner with Cherry was infinity better than it would have been by myself. I learned that she had been a nurse before she had been forced to leave due to budget cuts. She was funny. She had ended up getting [seafood stuffed fish fillets](https://irepo.primecp.com/2015/06/223896/Seafood-Stuffed-Fish-Fillets_ExtraLarge1000_ID-1036362.jpg?v=1036362) with the side salad and I had ordered the [fish taco bowl](https://kateslyon.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/rsz_spicy_fish_taco_bowls_rev_2_1_of_1.jpg). We may have shared our food. When dinner was over I walked her out and while I knew that she most likely was going to go back with that very terrifying man I had to ask her.

"Do you need help?" I kept my voice down so that no one could overhear us. Her smile was sad.

"I want you to know that I had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you for dinner." She hesitated. "I am so sorry."

I watched her walk away and I, too, made my way to my car.

I easily found my car keys while I walked when I felt more than heard someone come up behind me. The rest of my night would only be remembered as snapshots with chunks of scenes completely missing. I felt a pain in my head. I heard my keys tumble out of my hands as they hit the floor. I felt the floor rise up to meet me. The lights above me were made brighter by the occasional silhouette that hovered above. Grey eyes that could not possibly belong to a human seemed to float above me before everything blurred out and I knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head this happens before the books even begin.
> 
> What would happen next: 
> 
> Chloe ends up stolen by Gabriel because of what she did to try and help Cherry.  
> She is (possibly) infected, becomes a wereleopard, and is included in the torture with the rest of the pard.  
> She eventually gets fed up and kills Gabriel and takes over the pard.  
> The random vampire killings still happen.  
> Edward still gets paid to kill Nikolaos which he does like a boss and with no help because Anita still doesn't exist here.  
> Chloe eventually meets with Jean-Claude and Richard (who somehow became leader of the wolves) in order to renegotiate things after the wereleopards went underground and hid.  
> And that is as far as my imagination went with this.


	3. A Case of Mistaken Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anita Blake has lived in St. Louis for years and while she tries not to hold grudges against people who are not at fault she cannot help but strongly dislike the other Anita Blake who seems hell bent on ruining her life by just existing.
> 
> Warning: This is a crack fic that I plan to treat 100% seriously.

The house was beautiful. I loved it. It was ginormous and affordable. It was a bit closer to the Riverfront, also known as the Blood District, than I would ideally want but it really was perfect for me and my needs. It looked like a witch’s house straight out of a story. I could feel my creativity flowing.

Moving out of the hole in the wall that I had once called an apartment and into this was going to be absolutely worth it. And with how affordable the entire thing was I was able to pay everything upfront, which in turn got me a huge discount on an already discounted property.

The professional decorator that I had admittedly splurged on was making her way over to me from the pond out front. I owned my very own pond. She had a clipboard in hand and it looked like I would need to sign a few more papers.

“Anita, it has been an honor working with you. I will admit that I was a bit apprehensive when I first heard your name on the phone but I apologize for listening to rumors. It was a treat to help turn this house into something anyone would be proud to live in. You have a much bigger sense of humor than I though an animator would but your work is very popular.” She smiled widely and shook my hand.

I was deeply touched by the fact that she had actually looked me up. I was also impressed that she had found my work. I hadn’t been an animator for long and while I had hit a lucky break and my art was very well-received the work that I had done was admittedly small. I did a lot of odd jobs on the side in order to be able to keep involved in my passion. Although, I also felt bad and slightly embarrassed that anyone that Ihad worked with had found me difficult. I usually had a reputation for being very laid-back and chill.

“I just need you to sign these last few things and you can get acquainted with your new home.” Christine smiled at me as she handed over the clipboard.

“Of course, thank you so much for coming down to do this for me. Iabsolutely love what you did with the place. It is perfect.” I quickly signed my name to all of the necessary paperwork and returned the clipboard when I finished.

She opened her mouth. And then immediately closed it again. This she repeated several times.

“Hey,” I spoke as soothingly as I could. “You can ask me anything. Iwon’t bite.”

She seemed to jump just a bit at my wording but I figured that I was just overreacting.

“Could you sign this for me?” Her question came out rushed and the words ran together slightly. She pulled out an envelope.

“Of course. It is no problem.”Assuming that it was a few of the limited edition prints that came out with the last movie that I had worked on I gently pulled out the papers from within.

And froze.

This was not my work. The top paper was a headshot. And it was most certainly not one of me either. It was an Anita Blake, just not this Anita Blake.

Oh, god. Not again. Had Christine worked with me thinking I was the infamous Anita Blake, animator and sometimes vampire executioner rather than Anita Blake, animator and sometimes vampire housekeeper? This was awkward and I knew that I didn’t have the ability to correct her. This was my last day working with her and if Icould just keep it together, everything would be fine. I would never see her again, hopefully.

Keeping my smile firmly in place, I signed the papers and handed them back to her. When everything was put away, I gave her a tight hug as well. The best kind of hugs.

She blushed her way to her car. And I kept up my smiling and waving like a champ as she drove away. The moment she turned the corner and was out of sight both hand and smile dropped.

“Anita. Motherfucking. Blake.” This was not the first time I had seen her photo. This was also not the first time that I had been mistaken for her either. We looked surprisingly similar to each other but I felt that if people actually looked at us they would be able to see the differences very easily. She was also the reason why I sometimes went by my middle name if I felt like it may end up being a problem for me.

I had never met the other Anita Blake but I felt like her very existence was a deliberate attack against me. She lived to cause me problems.

Like the time I was strip searched at the airport.

Or the time a group of Humans First fanatics pulled crosses on me while I was grocery shopping.

Or that other time where a relative of someone she had killed tried to attack me in revenge for their loved one's death.

Our phone numbers had only one digit difference. And this was after changing my phone number three times. My phone company flat out refused to change it when I asked a fourth time.

I used to get her mail sent to my old apartment.

I have contemplated moving or changing my name too many times to count but I have decided against it every time because I have a life here. I have an amazing job that I love here. I refuse to let the other Anita Blake win.

I needed to calm down. I usually was calm. Except when it came to my evil doppelgänger.

My plan for the rest of the day: soak in my beautifully aesthetic new house, drink some warm cashew milk maybe with some vanilla and cinnamon, watch some Netflix, and maybe work on the next issue of my WebToon story.

Everything was going to be okay.

* * *

And everything was okay. For a full month, I wasn’t mistaken for the Other Anita besides a few small incidents that I was more than used to by now. It was possibly a month exactly when my phone woke me up early that morning. I didn’t recognize the phone number.

“Hello?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but it’s okay.” A glance at my bedside clock showed it to be 7:50 AM. “My alarm clock is set to go off in ten minutes anyway. Whom am I speaking to?”

“I’m Monica Vespucci.” She said her name like an explanation and an introduction all in one.

“I’m sorry. I don’t recall meeting you.”

“Oh, my, uh. I’m the Monica that works with Catherine Maison.”

That was a name that I recognized. I had met her when she had accidentally called me instead of the Other Anita. One of us really needed to go by a nickname. It was weird to keep thinking of her as the Other Anita. But it was the best I had, so I stuck with it.

“I am so sorry, Miss Vespucci. But you have the wrong number. It is a pretty common mistake but the Anita you are looking for is one number off.”

“Ohhhhh,” the way that she drew that out conveyed how much she didn’t believe what I was telling her. “You seem to know Catherine. I am throwing her a surprise bachelorette party. She is getting married next month.” I could tell she was only humoring me.

“Yeah, I know Catherine. We originally met when Anita changed her phone number and it was one digit off from mine even then. Catherine and I go out for brunch once a month now. I am invited to the wedding but I get the easy job of just showing up as a guest. I am not in the actual wedding party.” It was the truth and Catherine had originally thought that Anita was playing a prank on her since it had been April Fool’s Day. We had met up that same day, and she had shown me a picture of Anita. She hadn’t ended up telling the Other Anita about me, but she had informed me that the Other Anita had never been inconvenienced by the fact that we shared a name or looked alike. I was deeply jealous of this fact, but we both got along well, and we made sure to make time for one another when we could.

“I know I am not the person that you were originally calling but is there anything that I could help you with?” I felt reluctant to ask since I wasn’t in the wedding party but since I was Catherine’s friend I couldn't see the harm in asking.

“Well, I know it’s short notice, but everything just sort of slipped up on me. I meant to call you a week ago, but I just never got around to it.” This seemed rehearsed but if she had originally thought that she would be talking to the other Anita I could understand why she would be apprehensive. Calling last minute about plans is always a bit awkward but to do it when Catherine had told me that Anita seemed to actively look down on Monica? Probably something that I would have to practice in front of the mirror as well if I was in her shoes.

“What day is it?”

“Tonight. Dress up, but no heels. We may be dancing. Meet you at the Island Grill. My treat.” Talk about last minute but the Island Grill was delicious and I had been trying to think of an excuse to go there soon. And she was paying so why not?

“Okay. See you later tonight.” I hoped she ended up calling the right Anita after she hung up but the only thing I wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep until my alarm clock actually went off. It seemed like I officially had a very busy day ahead of me. Should be fun. What was the worst that could happen?


End file.
